


aggravation/adoration

by circumlocute



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Bulges and Nooks, Dave/Karkat but what if they were both even bigger assholes, JO Crystals, Light Dom/sub, M/M, That's it that's the plot, Tyrian Karkat, Xeno, Xenophilia, bloodswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 17:02:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12964176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circumlocute/pseuds/circumlocute
Summary: Dave Lalonde pushes His Royal Crabbiness' buttons quite on purpose.





	aggravation/adoration

**Author's Note:**

> This bloodswap is part of a larger AU, although I don't really feel compelled to write much for it. So, uh, enjoy this incredibly niche bloodswap porn, I guess!
> 
> Dave Lalonde's interest in crystals (JO and otherwise) and stuff was largely a passive-aggressive ploy to piss off Mom Lalonde, with her being a scientist and all. He continues to use it to piss off people.

“Bro,” Dave says, draping himself across Karkat’s lap. “Bro, hey, Karkat, a fine piece of ass is nose-to-crotch with your dumb wetsuit and you’re not even paying attention to it. What if I bit your dickfins off?” 

Karkat lowers his tablet—he’s playing some stupid dating sim again, because of course he is—and gives Dave a patented withering look. Sometimes, when he’s being all snooty like that, Dave likes to imagine Karkat sitting on some huge golden throne, looking all royal and imperious and shit. Maybe while Dave’s bouncing on his bulge. Because it’s Dave’s fantasy, there’s usually tentacles involved too. Well, additional tentacles. God, troll dicks are a gift. 

Anyway. Real Karkat is paying attention to him now. Time to begin operation “get a tentacle dick stuffed up your butt.” Dave reaches for the chain hanging underneath his shirt—a tasteful lavender button-down, because Dave dresses up to get dicked down—and pulls out a crystal pendant. 

“My JO crystal needs charged.” 

Karkat curls his lip, revealing the points of his shark fangs. He hates the new age shit so much. “So go charge it.” 

“I was kind of hoping you’d charge it for me, my bestest beau.” Dave flutters his eyelashes and only grins a little bit at Karkat’s expression of disgust. “Use your lifey magic to juice this bad boy up. Do you know the kind of dong power I could unleash if you shoved this crystal up your butt for me?”

“I spend each and every moment of my miserable, blighted life praying that you will not ask me to shove something weird up my ass. And yet, here we are.” He sets his tablet down and peers down his nose at Dave, raising an eyebrow. “What do you want.” 

Dave rolls his eyes at him. This is how things go, normally. It’s an intricate dance of snark and smack talk, all the way to the bedroom. He likes to think of it as a kind of cross-species mating jig, both because it would piss Karkat off to hear that, and because it’s pretty much true. And for this particular dance, Dave’s the one leading. So he puts his metaphorical hands on Karkat’s allegorical waist and keeps moving. 

“I want you to charge my JO crystal, which I think I made pretty explicit earlier, but hey. Should I file a form with the imperial boner committee?” 

Karkat’s fins flare. “The imperial boner committee regrets to inform you that each time you bring up crystals, ‘JO’ or otherwise, a tiny part of the royal libido withers up and dies. Soon there won’t be anything left, and then how will you embarrass yourself by asking—badly, I might add—for sex?”

“I’m sure I could think of something.” Dave reaches up to pet at one of Karkat’s fins and is rewarded with a low chittering noise. “I feel like you’re fond enough of the sweet Lalonde derriere that I could resurrect your libido.” 

Karkat puts his hand in Dave’s hair, the points of his lacquered nails scritching lightly. “Regrettably. Get up, we’re going to my room.” 

Hell yes. Dave resists the urge to pump his fist in the air, because he  _ is  _ trying to look sexy. He stands up and grabs Karkat’s hand, hauling him towards the royal bedchamber. The royal bedchamber honestly just looks like a kind of nerdy dude’s bedroom, but Dave doesn’t say anything about Karkat’s aesthetic choices. Calling it that is hilarious, too, so. 

In this part of the dance metaphor, Karkat’s about to take over; Dave can feel it in the prickle-press of his claws into Dave’s hand, in Karkat’s persistent low rumbling.  _ This  _ is why Dave likes to rile Karkat up. 

As soon as the bedroom door is closed, Karkat pushes him onto the mattress and starts biting at his neck. The pinprick points of his needle teeth make Dave go hot all over. 

“Someone’s eager,” Dave says, only a little breathless from the sudden onslaught. 

“Yeah, well.” Karkat starts undoing the buttons of Dave’s shirt. “Someone was, how did you say? Nose-to-crotch with my wetsuit? And despite my better judgement, I think you’re hot, even when you’re peddling your bullshit rocks.”

Dave strokes his fins and watches the way the all-powerful heir to the Alternian empire shudders and leans into his hand. The power rush is pretty fucking hot, even if Dave’s not looking to be on top this time around. The fins are really delicate, and Karkat’s letting him fondle them like a ripe peach in the produce section. 

Dave’s content to watch the display of submission (and love or whatever), half lidded, until Karkat leans back down and bites his neck. Dave knows from experience there’s going to be a perfect double-ring of pinpricks, and the thought makes little Dave take interest. 

Karkat grins and reaches down to palm Dave’s dick through his pants. 

“Take your shirt off, I already did the buttons. You’re welcome.” Karkat looks  _ unbelievably  _ smug, sitting back to watch Dave pull off his shirt and undershirt. 

And then he sees the crystal still hanging around Dave’s neck. His eyes narrow, and he starts making a pissed-off cicada hiss. Dave would laugh if this wasn’t exactly the reaction he was trying for. Angry Karkat is so  _ alien,  _ all flared fins and curled lip showing off a double set of shark teeth. Angry Karkat looks like a conqueror, like the leader of a warrior race come to take his due. Dave is so fucking hard right now. 

“You,” Karkat says, hooking his claws into the waistband of Dave’s slacks, “are infuriating. In every conceivable way. I lie awake trying to think of new ways you could piss me off, and inevitably you manage to exceed every expectation. That’s not a compliment, stop grinning.”

Dave does not stop grinning, even when Karkat pulls off his pants and then his boxers. He might stop grinning, but only to gasp a curse, when Karkat leans down and licks a possessive stripe along his dick. 

“Not fair.” Dave spreads his legs and wiggles a bit when Karkat pulls back. 

“If you wanted fair, you shouldn’t have tried to seduce me with your obnoxious fucking horseshit.” Karkat leans back and pulls off his top. He’s wearing a vest Dave knitted him, over top of his wetsuit. Aww. 

Without the vest, though, the wetsuit is form-fitting in the  _ best  _ ways. Dave can see the flex of his muscles when he pulls off his top, and lines of pink follow the contours of his body. This is Dave’s very favorite outfit of Karkat’s.

He sits up to help Karkat out of it, but he swats Dave’s hand away when he reaches for him, and then  _ hisses  _ when Dave pouts. Dave might have a tiny thing for danger, because the sound of pissed-off seatroll only serves to turn him on more. 

“Assholes with idiotic, obnoxious interests designed purely to give me a rage aneurism  _ don’t  _ get to touch.” Karkat’s eyes are heavy-lidded and nearly luminous, and they don’t leave Dave for a second, even when he starts fiddling with his wetsuit.

Wetsuit is a bit of a misnomer. Karkat actually wears significantly less underwater, to give himself room to breathe and to feel the currents against his skin, because he was built for the deep ocean. The suit is designed to press against him so he doesn’t freak out in the low pressure of open air, and to keep his gills shut above water. But calling it a  _ drysuit  _ sounds so pedestrian. Suffice to say, it’s some weird Alternian getup, clearly designed for one person to get on and off on their own, because trolls are murder machines and letting someone at your back was either a sign of incredible trust or stupidity. Sometimes Karkat lets Dave undress him, when he’s feeling particularly sappy, but tonight’s not one of those nights. 

Those pink lines on the suit are seams, and when Karkat drags his claws along them just so, they open. The wetsuit falls off his torso like the petals of an incredibly xeno flower, leaving Karkat naked from the waist up. His gills are long pink stripes between his ribs, and they flare at being exposed to open air. 

From there, he just has to pull the rest of the suit off his legs. This part is Dave’s favorite; when he pulls the wetsuit down and starts to step out of it, Dave can tell how well he’s been doing. Karkat’s thighs are stained pink, and now that he’s not in skintight material, his bulge starts to unsheathe. Hell yeah. Dave spreads his legs wider, watching the way Karkat’s bulge lashes. 

Karkat puts everything he says and does through a filter of what he thinks a future emperor should look and act like. Dave can relate, with his own pretentious horseshit he’ll never admit to, but Karkat’s bulge has no such insecurities. It does what it wants, and right now it wants to fuck Dave’s ass. Unfortunately, Karkat takes his bulge in hand, keeping it away from anything fun, and just. Looks at Dave.

“Have you ever considered just asking me to fuck you?”

“This is so much more fun,” Dave says, stroking himself slowly to watch Karkat’s expression. “And besides, when we do it like this I’m playing into your big bad emperor complex. Letting you feel like a conqueror and shit.”

“I’ve already conquered your ass, can’t do it again.”

Despite his bitching, Karkat moves forward until he’s properly on top of Dave, practically nose-to-nose. His hand wanders down Dave’s chest until his fingers brush across the crystal still hanging around his neck. Karkat straight-up growls and wraps his fingers around it. Dave thinks he might be black for the stupid thing. 

“If you insist on wearing this shit while we’re fucking,” his voice is low, right in Dave’s ear. He snaps the chain. “At least wear it in my color.”

Hoooooly fuck. Karkat tosses the crystal into a corner of his room to be forgotten, and frankly? Dave couldn’t give less of a fuck. 

“That was so hot.” Dave rocks his hips, trying to convince Karkat to fuck him already. “You should be possessive more often, oh my god. I will get a  _ piercing  _ in your color, dude.”

Karkat purrs. Dave can feel his bulge coiling against the backs of his thighs, smearing genetic material everywhere. Yes fucking please, more of that immediately. Karkat finally reaches down to grip Dave’s hips, the points of his nails prickling just slightly. Dave turns his head to lick the delicate membrane of one fin. Karkat swears. 

Karkat doesn’t give Dave any warning when he starts to fuck him, beyond gripping Dave’s hips and lifting until the tapered tip of his bulge can push in. Dave groans and lets his head flop back against the mattress. It’s not like Dave’s exactly swimming in prior experience, but it doesn’t feel like anything human should, and his not-so-latent tentacle kink goes fucking wild over it. 

“Ohhh fuck.” Dave hooks his ankles behind Karkat’s back and reaches up to (carefully, he’s not  _ that  _ much of an asshole) play with his gills. Karkat’s head drops and his bulge pushes in a little further, oozing homemade artisanal seadweller lube. Karkat’s bulge is Dave’s favorite thing. It doesn’t actually have dickfins on it, that would hurt like a bitch, but it has soft frills running along the sides that ripple with every movement. 

Karkat’s practically vibrating with the effort it takes to hold still by the time he’s all the way in. For Dave’s part, he’s so hard his dick is indistinguishable from a diamond-point drill, and he’s hardly even touched himself.

“Come on dude, fuck me.” Dave doesn’t even care that he sounds breathy and desperate. “Make use of all that valuable territory you conquered, or whatever.”

“You’re not really--” Karkat huffs and nips Dave’s neck. “--you’re not really in a position to be making demands.”

Even so, he rolls his hips and starts fucking Dave in earnest, his bulge coiling in him in a smooth, continuous motion. Dave gasps at the first brush against his prostate, which is Karkat’s cue to focus his efforts. He has minimal control over his bulge, but that doesn’t stop him from absolutely wrecking Dave with it. Thank you sweet wiggly hentai jesus. 

Dave leans up to bite at Karkat’s shoulder, harder than he’d normally consider reasonable. But Karkat is made out of kevlar and only purrs louder when Dave bites as hard as he can. After a moment, Karkat manages to get a hand between them to grip Dave’s dick, working him over roughly. 

Yeah, Dave’s. Not going to last long, like this. Not with Karkat’s hands on him like that and his bulge moving relentlessly against his prostate. Fuck. 

Karkat’s setting a bruising pace, his eyes not leaving Dave for a second. This is like living some ridiculous fantasy, Dave’s getting fucked by an alien fish prince with a  _ tentacle dong.  _ An alien fish prince who looks at him like he’s something worth keeping, even when Dave deliberately pissed him off so he could get rawed. 

Dave would let him keep him, if it’d keep Karkat looking at him like that. 

That’s what makes him come, which is embarrassing and ridiculous in a thousand different ways, but Dave gasps and arches up into Karkat’s hand all the same. Karkat fucks him through it until it gets to be too much and Dave squirms away. 

Karkat pulls out, his bulge still lashing against itself. He’s positively  _ dripping  _ pink. Dave sits up until they’re chest-to-chest and kisses one fin. 

“Let me?”

Karkat lets out a shuddering breath. “Yeah, okay.”

Dave reaches down and lets Karkat’s bulge curl around one hand, reaching down with the other to his nook. Gently; for all that the rest of Karkat might be made out of kevlar, this part is not. Dave doesn’t actually want to hurt him. 

It doesn’t take long before Karkat’s coming, spilling cool over Dave’s hands. He’s chirping as his hips twitch through the aftershocks, which is a noise he’ll never admit to making and a noise Dave will never admit to finding cute. 

After a few seconds, Dave pulls his hands away and Karkat goes boneless on top of him, pushing him back onto the mattress. 

“You’re insurfferable and dating you was an act of pure self-loathing, but that was pretty nice.”

In...surf… Holy shit. Dave laughs abruptly and grins when Karkat gives him a quizzical look.

“It must have been pretty good.” Dave’s grin gets wider as Karkat continues to not get it. He seriously didn’t do it on purpose, holy fuck. “I made you fish pun, dude. I chummed your bucket that hard! That deserves an award.”

Karkat bites him. 


End file.
